


Still here on earth

by smilodonna



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley has a nightmare, Gen, a bit gloomy and angsty (Crowley's part), and they are really attached to each other, but there's hope, well of course they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilodonna/pseuds/smilodonna
Summary: Just two monologues. Aziraphale and Crowley imagining telling each other things they haven't dared to speak of yet.Though their affection for each other is obvious, it's not about them desiring each other sexually (although I don't want to rule out that possibility ...)





	1. Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

> The text between asterisks is intended to be footnotes, cause I liked the idea that these two have spent so much time in the book that they sometimes think and talk with footnotes. But sadly I don't know how to make footnotes.  
> And I know Crowley is a bit too human-y here, apologies for that, seems I'm a bloody hippie after all ...

So you still think it is your job to tempt me? To sow the seeds of doubt in my heart? Oh dear, do you really have no idea how deep the doubts are already rooted within me? I left paradise together with the humans. The doubts started to sprout the moment He punished His creatures for acting according to the nature He had given to them. But maybe it wasn't even a punishment. Maybe it was just the consequence of their actions. Maybe they were never meant to live in paradise in the long run anyway. Maybe paradise just is _not knowing_. Maybe ... Yes, that was when the doubts first arose. And I'm still not sure what to think of that day.

I met you then, at the gate. Afterwards. Do you remember? Of course you do. You still mock me for giving that flaming sword away. But your taunt doesn't sting any more. Though I am quite sure I did the wrong thing back then – I mean they were _h_ _umans_. And I gave them a _weapon._ Not a smart thing to do, as the following millennia would strongly suggest.

But somehow I know that you understand my act (which of course doesn't make you skip an opportunity to rile me up a little). And that thought comforts me, strangely enough. I could brood over the fact that a demon's opinion matters so much to me. That _a demon_ matters so much to me. But I am at peace with that. I can't see you as pure evil any more, maybe I never could. **This hurts your pride, I know. But I also know that you appreciate my affection for you. As much as I appreciate your affection for me. Though you'd never admit any of it ... Oh, my dear, stubborn, fragile demon...**

No, my doubts are of a different nature. There is no doubt that doing good is, well, good. But. What is good, what is bad? The closer you look, the harder it is to answer this seemingly simple question. And even if the answer is clear at one moment in time - it is so hard to predict what actions will turn out to be good or bad if you look at them next week, or maybe a few centuries later. I am starting to doubt even He can predict this. No, not starting. I am long past that point.

I am trying to do what is good, and I am going to keep on trying. I am an angel, after all. Which of course means I shouldn't have to _try,_ but just _do_ good. Well, things are a bit more complicated here on earth than both our principals can imagine, I guess.

You are not tempting me to doubt. I once thought that maybe you are tempting me to give up my doubts. One could think you have none. That you believe in nothing anyway, and without belief, what would there be to doubt? And without both belief and doubt, could there be hope?

Now this is why I am sure that you have doubts, too – and why I don't feel tempted to give up mine. I have seen you hopeless, and it was a heartbreaking sight, which I hope – yes, hope! - not to see ever again. But most of the time there is that spark in you that you just can't hide. Not from me.

While there is always this darkness around you, as if your mere presence was sucking the light of the air – I still see this spark glistening in your face, and it gives me hope, too.

Do you remember that one time the spark wasn't there? You seemed to implode inside the darkness around you, and it seemed so massive I was afraid I couldn't reach through. But I could, and pulled you into my arms.

Yes, you do remember. Sorry, dear, I don't have to tell you this story again.

But I have to tell it to myself. To remind me of the few words I understood through your desperate sobbing. You were afraid that you had chosen the wrong side, but there was no going back, and there had never been a chance to choose the right side for you anyway. And there had never been a right side at all, you growled, „don't tell me your club of bureaucratic hypocrites are the right side, angel“ and then you laughed and it was the most awful sound I have ever heard, ever. There was no humour in this laugh, not the tiniest bit, only hate and despair. It hurt me in places where I hadn't thought I had feelings at all. You returned to crying soon enough, telling me you were sorry, and that you didn't want to drag me down, begged me to leave you but clung to me as if I was your lifeline at the same time. And maybe I was. You calmed down after what could have been half an hour or a whole night. The spark had returned, and we never talked about what had happened.

But of course our relationship changed that night, and it has been changing since. And this is why I have to remember: That was the point where I gave up on sides. I couldn't admit it to myself at that time, but now that heaven and hell themselves seem to have given up on us finally – I can. There is no good and bad side, they try their best (or worst), yes, but ...

Just look at the world! We've been down here (up here, in your case) for so long. Do you see black and white? Do you know one clear answer to any moral question? One?

Of course there are principles, there are opinions, and ours still differ more often than not, and no, not everything is debatable. But we can agree on more than we'd both like to admit **no, you never will, dear, but I am content to know that you know that I know ...**

And this is where we meet. Between above and below, far enough away from every certainty and entrenched positions. Why should free will be restricted to humans? Was it you who tempted me to take a bite of the apple after all, serpent? Anyway, I like the taste. I want to stay here with you. On earth.


	2. Crowley

Angel. I should be the one tempting you. The one to change you. And I guess that if you look at it from a certain angle, it looks as if I may have succeeded. But to me it feels more like it's the other way round.

You _have_ changed, yes. That's what working in the field for so long does to you, we both know that. But it's not like you have been tainted in any way. I may not be an expert here – but even I can tell that you are _good_. Your fine feathered friends up there **that one was bad, angel, stop chuckling. Ok. I‘ll keep making bad puns forever just to hear that chuckle again, you know I will.**, they are righteousss. Unflinching, never questioning, dumb. You are smart enough to doubt, and you are purely good.

This should be something I despise. I should be trying to drag you down, tempt you, taint you ... Make you fall. I don't want you to fall. The thought of you in hell ... No, angel, you don't know the pure paralysing terror this thought means to me. Cause you know nothing about hell but rumours – and if I have a say in this at all, that's how it's going to stay.

Ssstill, I need to tell you about my fear. So you can understand how far I am from tempting you to fall. I don't want you to trust me, it's one hell of a bad idea to trust a demon, you know, angel. But you can trust me with this: I will never, ever do anything to make you fall.

What do you know about dreaming? Never experienced it yourself, have you? But I guess you know the basic concept. You angels have this habit of showing up in people's dreams, don't you? So you should know a thing or two about how it works.

Well, I dreamt of you once. Of you going to hell. Quite literally, my dreams' images seem to work that way. You were walking down an ever darkening path, plucking the feathers out of your own wings as you went, one by one. The feathers were all bloody, and there was this awful hopeless expression on your face, as if the light in you had died. But then you were chuckling: „I think I'm falling for you, serpent“ and that was even worse. You refused to listen when I begged you to turn around. „Do you think I don't know where I'm going, dear“ you asked softly, and there was this light around you, and you smiled at me. That was when they came out of the shadows and pulled you to the ground and everything went pitch-black and you screamed and they growled – and I woke up crying out your name. Didn't sleep again for years.

Um. Well. Where was I? The other way round, yes. Bloody listen to me, angel! I'm a mess. Talking about dreams and feelings and ssstuff. Yesss, you changed me.

You didn't understand what had happened that time when you ... when I ... Oh, bless it! When you picked up the pieces that had been me and held them in your arms until I became myself again. Myself, but profoundly changed.

Do you want to know? I'll tell you anyway, I'm talking too much today, don't know what's come over me, I don't care right now, ssso – lisssen: It was the humans again. Maybe I had initiated this or that, but ... Some of them spoke of „hell on earth“ - but I swear, hell had next to nothing to do with it. They had made up the essentials all by themselves, more gruesome than everything I could have thought of on one of my most vicious days. When Below congratulated me on my „outstanding work“, I nearly told them, nearly. But of course I couldn't. I mean – a demon being honest? They would have known something was off with me immediately.

And indeed there was. I don't even want to think about what they would have done to me if they had found out. I had such undemonic feelings. Compassion and even shame – though it hadn't even been my fault anyway! But I saw how deeply you suffered at the sight of what had become of humanity, and the mere thought that you could think it had been me made my stomach cramp with guilt. Given my nature, my history, whatever – my fucking job –, I should have celebrated the bloodbath, whether I had a finger in the pie or not.

I couldn't. Whenever I nearly succeeded in being at least indifferent about the suffering humans, my mind came back to the fact that _you_ were hurt. And no one should be allowed to hurt you, ever.

Until then, I had done my job a tad reluctantly at times, and I had thought that Below just didn't know enough about how things were on earth, so I had to slightly adjust the instructions they gave me – but from that moment on I just wanted to leave.

Not to join Above again, of course. That‘s not my place, maybe never was, and sure as ... well, really sure never will be again.

**I‘d say it wasn‘t your place either, you‘re too good for them. But where could be a place for an angel that is too good for heaven? The irony, that you of all the angels should keep the company of a demon ... Well, I won't complain about irony, obviously.**

So, I wanted to leave. I didn't, I couldn't. Call me a coward, a conformist, whatever. I didn't dare. No one can leave hell, so why even try? Still, your arms around my weak, shaking, human-shaped body told me there could be an answer to that question. You saved me that night, angel, you know that, don't you? That night, when you were hurt so badly and would have needed at least some comfort, you cared for me instead. I have never thanked you, it was so much, and I was so ashamed. I was weak, angel, so fucking weak.

Later, I couldn't even refuse the order to kick off the end of the world – but I was glad you were there with me. And now we are still here together, after what should have been the end. And I feel … I feel … I should really buck up, I‘m still a bloody demon after all. Anyway … Have I told you that I'm glad you‘re with me? Cause I am.

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this, against my habit I put on some music at some point. It took youtube autoplay (fresh, clean browser, no cookies whatsoever) exactly three songs to get from Nick Cave to Queen ... Well, I thought that was funny.


End file.
